


Rose and Crown

by lemonb0y



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Disney World & Disneyland, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonb0y/pseuds/lemonb0y
Summary: Dan is part of Disney's International College Program and gets assigned a job at the Rose and Crown Pub in the England pavilion at Epcot. Unfortunately for him, being a bartender doesn't coming easy, and it doesn't help that the person who's training him finds him completely incompetent. Phil does not make the greatest first impression, and it might just ruin Dan's perspective of him for good. At least, it would, if he wasn't so utterly alluring.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

The Disney International College Program was always something Dan intended on going through with. 

His parents were some of the biggest Disney fanatics out there, and they spent a majority of their summers during Dan’s childhood standing in the line for Space Mountain. So when the opportunity of going to school and working there at the same time arose, it was a no-brainer for Dan. 

The difficult part though, was where they placed him to work.

Dan had never made a drink in his life, apart from the occasional rum and coke. Most of his alcoholic outings were just him taking straight shots of Malibu, and perhaps the occasional Smirnoff Ice. So, when he opened his letter from Walt Disney World and saw the words, “Bartender, Epcot England Pavilion, Rose and Crown Pub,” needless to say he was more than a little worried. 

He spent the remainder of his summer studying up on as many alcohol facts that he could find, trying to memorize the pub’s specific recipes, before realizing, two weeks before he left, that memorization would get him nowhere if he simply wasn’t good at the job.

Multitasking was not Dan’s strong suits; he had problems procrastinating one activity at a time, let alone having to tackle multiple, so the idea of working in an extremely fast paced environment brought butterflies to his stomach and the taste of sick to his mouth. 

He was not ready. He was not prepared. None of it mattered anyway, considering he was staring at the clock, which read 3:47 a.m., a mere 6 hours and 13 minutes from the start of his first shift.

He couldn’t sleep, he found it utterly impossible to think of anything besides what the upcoming day would have in store for him. Spilling people’s drinks, knocking over expensive bottles of liquor, putting too much of x and not enough of y. His mind was a racetrack and the cars just kept doing laps. Surely, he thought, it won’t be that bad. 

He was lucky enough to get a few hours of sleep before his alarm went off like a sonic bomb, sending him into a frenzy of dry shampoo and toothpaste as he haphazardly paced around his room, gathering every and all items he might need for the day. 

When the clock read 7:45, he was headed out the door, the hot Orlando sun beating down against his skin. He was still not used to the heat. It was the polar opposite of what he was used to back home; dark, grey, and stormy skies 85% of the year. He liked England, he liked the rain and the cold and the absence of vitamin D. He preferred to bundle up than to strip down, so, needless to say, he was very out of his comfort zone.

It was a 30-minute drive from his student housing to the employee parking at Disney, and the ride could not have gone fast enough. With every minute, every mile that he got closer to the park, his heart rate was doubling. He thought for sure it might beat through his poor chest.

He sat alone on the tram ride to the costume building, where he was quickly ushered into a room with a handful of other younger-looking men, who, he assumed, where in the same position as he was. 

“Where are you posted?” An older man, with a full beard and gray streaks in his hair, asked Dan.

“Pardon?” Dan practically squeaked. 

“Where’s your job.” The man seemed overly annoyed, and Dan couldn’t quite blame him; the room was hectic, people were chaotically running left and right. Dan was certain he even saw a Goofy mascot character running around without one of his shoes on.

“Oh, um, Rose and Crown? The Pub?”

“Great,” The man spun around, walked over to a hanging wardrobe, and started flicking through the clothes hanging on it. “Shirt size?”

“Medium, I think.” Dan replied.

“Pants?”

“Uh, 30.” Dan felt foolish for ending every answer like it was a question, but truth be told he was feeling very small in a very big place, and was still trying to calm his thumping heartbeat.

“Here,” the man handed Dan a stack of clothes. “Get dressed. Someone will be here when you’re done to take you to the United Kingdom pavilion.” Then, the man moved on to the next person. 

Dan stared down at the clothes in his hands before walking into one of the fitting rooms.

The uniform wasn’t the most attractive, nor the most comfortable, but Dan supposed it could have been worse. It consisted of a white billowy button-up shirt, rolled up to the elbows, navy dress pants that cut off around the ankles, and mid-calf length socks, that were already beginning to itch his legs. His black shoes were shined to perfection, with a belt to match.

When he stepped out of the dressing room, there was a short blonde girl with round cheeks and a gap-toothed smile. She was dressed in the same billowy styled shirt, a frilly apron over top of it and a pink skirt underneath. Her name tag read, “Louise, London, England.”

She smiled up at Dan, who had a good foot on her at least. “Hello, Daniel, is it?”

Dan smiled back. “Yeah, hi.”

“Hello! Okay, so, I’m Louise.” She gestured to her nametag, and Dan nodded. “I’ll be taking you to the Pub and showing you around. Do you have any questions before we get started?” She spoke quickly, but in an excited way, and Dan wondered if it was her personality or the rub-off of the Disney spirit. 

“At any point today am I going to stop having a borderline heart attack?”

Louise smiled even wider, which Dan didn’t think was possible. “You’re adorable. Don’t be nervous, you’ll be fine. Have you ever bartended before?”

“No,” Dan spoke quietly, somewhat embarrassed. 

“Well, have you ever worked in a restaurant before?”

“No,” Dan said again. 

“Bloody hell, what an interesting post for you then. Where was your last job?”

“Uh, I had the morning shift at the Asda down the road from my house.”

“Well, Daniel from Asda, I will make absolutely certain that you’re not left alone until you’re definitely ready. It’s not hard work, so long as you stay on top of who has what, what goes in what, and what is what. Okay?”

Dan thought she might as well have been speaking full on Latin to him, but he nodded, forced a smile, and followed her through the long corridor she began to lead him down. 

“So, right now we are under Epcot. If you’ve ever heard about secret tunnels under Disney, they weren’t a myth.”

“This is crazy. But, like, in a cool way.” Dan smiled.

“Definitely in a cool way. We would never want to ruin the magic, Daniel. When people are in a country, they are in that country. So, use all the British slang you can muster, so long as it’s appropriate, of course.”

After walking and talking for a few minutes, Louise opened a door to their left, which revealed a flight of stairs leading upwards. 

When they reached the top and opened a second door, the scent of ale and oak filled Dan’s nose. He was reminded of the streets of Wokingham late at night, when him and his friends would bum drinks off dim-witted bar tenders, stumbling through the cobblestone roads of the town he’d grown to miss so much.

“Welcome to Rose and Crown Pub.” Louise turned back to see his reaction, but Dan was busy taking it all in. 

It was a small pub, the most prominent color being an orangey-red. The bar, the tables, and the stools all fell under this burnt orange category, and there was the bar, which was essentially a circle in the middle of the room, with an island of alcohol in the center.

“Amazing,” was all Dan could muster, because underneath the initial awe, he was suddenly even more nervous than he was before. 

“Alright, let’s begin then.” Louise took Dan’s hand and lead him to the front of the pub. “The front door, where every guest will enter. This is the first view they get, and usually it’s a pretty hectic one, since it’s always relatively busy in here.”

Great, Dan thought, but didn’t let the negative idea cloud his mind too much.

“Then,” Louise walked swiftly over to a row of tables. “Some guests choose to eat and drink here, sometimes they choose the bar, and sometimes they take their drinks to go. People will leave glasses on the tables though, so we have to remember to survey every once-in-a-while and collect all the dirty glasses. Running out of glasses at the bar would be bad, bad, bad.”

Dan nodded along, and Louise moved on. “This,” she began as she lead Dan behind the bar. “Is the mothership.” Louise slapped her hand down on the orange top of the bar. “Learn it, live it, love it.”

“There’s so many,” Dan traced his hand along the bar, walking from one end to the other, taking in every bottle of liquor that his eyes could process. 

“And they all serve a different purpose. They all provide different tastes, can be altered to suit anyone’s fancy. The more passionate you can make yourself become about the art of mixology the easier memorizing drinks will become.”

“That’s good advice, thank you.” Dan said quietly. 

“You’re overwhelmed, aren’t you?”

Dan exhaled and made a genuine effort to unclench his jaw. “A little, yeah.”

“Like I said, I won’t throw you into the deep end until I’m positive you can handle it. Now, let’s meet Philip.”

“Philip?” Dan asked, but Louise had already strutted away, and he assumed he was expected to follow.

Louise tapped a taller man on the shoulder, probably two or three inches taller than Dan himself, and that was saying something. The man had hair quite similar to Dan’s as well; long, but not shaggy, but parted to the opposite side, all the while being an intense shade of black, which was a powerful contrast against his extremely fair complexion. He had bright blue eyes, and the slightest bump on his nose, making it almost, but not completely beak-like. Dan thought he was striking. Not traditionally beautiful, but captivating. 

Dan’s sexuality had always been something he chose to ignore, but in the last year of high school he’d done nothing but think. He knew he liked men, that was no secret to him, but he’d never actively chosen to pursue one. All the encounters, romantic and sexual the like, that he’d had with the same sex had been presented to him, leaving him the receiver most of the time. Not that he didn’t prefer receiving, but he wouldn’t even know how to go about letting another man know that he fancied them. 

In any case, it didn’t matter. Philip could be straight for all he knew, or already have a partner. Dan was here to work, go to school, and pursue the life path he had constructed for himself. Anything and everything else was secondary, and would be held at a lower level of priority. 

“Daniel, meet Philip. Philip, this is Daniel, the new trainee.” Louise introduced the two of them. Dan looked at his name tag and sure enough, there it was: Philip, Rawtenstall, UK.

“Hello,” Dan said. 

“Please, for the last time Louise, call me Phil.” Phil looked at Dan. “That goes for you, too.” He held his hand out. 

“In that case, I’m Dan.” Dan took his hand, shaking it. 

“Daniel though, much cuter.” Louise said to Dan, and to Phil, “Philip as well, but if you insist on the ladder, I’ll comply.”

“How generous of you.” Though speaking to Louise, Phil kept his attention on Dan. “So,” Phil looked down at Dan’s tag. “Wokingham, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. Not much to do but muck around with friends. And you, Rawtenstall. Up North, then?”

“You don’t sound very southern.” Phil ignored his question, and Dan found the statement he instead chose to discuss rather annoying. 

“I get that a lot.” He mumbled. 

“You sound rather… what’s the word, Lou?”

“Proper?”

“Posh.” Dan said. “Yeah, my Nana was always putting Winnie the Pooh on, not to mention she was pretty articulate herself.”

“Cute, Winnie the Pooh. You know there’s a giant Winnie shaped hedge in this pavilion?” Louise said.

“I think I have a picture of me in front of it when I was 6 or so.” Dan replied. Phil hadn’t said anything, just stared. Dan began to feel very vulnerable, almost naked. He played with the hem of his sleeve. 

“Well, I’ll leave you both to it!” Louise turned to go, but Dan called out.

“Wait, what?”

“I said I’ll leave you both to it. Phil will be training you over the next couple weeks. I promise, he’s a great teacher.”

Dan looked between Phil and Louise, that uneasy feeling in his chest returning for what felt like that the hundredth time that day. “You’re not training me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry if that was the impression I gave! No, sorry Dan, I was just meant to show you around.” Louise looked apologetic, and Dan felt bad, but he still wanted to reach out and beg her to stay. He had grown comfortable with her, she was sweet and understanding, and no offense to Phil, but so far, he was not coming off the warmest.

“Have fun, boys. Phil, go easy on him. He’s never worked in a restaurant before.”

Phil looked puzzled, turning to Dan. “Is that true?”

“I reckon it can’t be that hard, right?” Dan offered a shy smile.

“Serving up food, no. Bartending?” Phil looked Dan up and down. “How quick are you on your feet? How much can you remember at once?”

“I’m beginning to feel a bit interrogated if I’m being honest.”

“Phil,” Louise hissed. Both Dan and Phil turned to look at her. “Play nice.”

Phil gave an eyeroll in response, and turned his attention back to Dan. “Let’s get started then.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dan would prove to be just as shit at the job as he thought he’d be. It was four hours into his shift and he’s already broken a glass, gotten an order wrong, and all the while had the constant sting of almost-crying in his nose. 

And Phil, poor soul, had had just about enough.

“Why don’t you take a break, huh?” Phil had said, and Dan knew it was out of pure annoyance. He knew that Phil thought it’d be easier to get through the rush without Dan in the way, and he didn’t argue with him. He knew he wasn’t doing too well, he just wished he could prove himself.

Though, during his break, which was fifteen minutes total, Dan found himself getting annoyed as well. After all, it was his first day, he wasn’t bound to be perfect, he had never even worked in this type of environment before. He thought, considering the circumstances, that he wasn’t doing an awful job, and that Phil shouldn’t be so crossed with him. It wasn’t fair, to expect him to know everything on the first day. Dan took a small sip of his water, his mouth returning to a hard line.

After a few more minutes, Dan ventured back behind the bar. The pub was significantly less crowded now, and he made his way over to Phil, who was drying a glass with a rag. 

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just overly flustered. I’m usually not this much of a mess.” Dan confessed.

Phil looked up from the glass. “I guess I’m just a bit confused why they stationed someone who’s never bartended in a literal pub.” Phil looked back down. Dan felt like someone just twisted his stomach up into their fist.

“Yeah, you and me both.” He muttered. Phil placed the glass on the shelf with the others and turned to look at Dan again.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick-“

“Really? ‘Cause I’d love to see what you’re like when you are trying.” Dan was fed up with the annoyed aura Phil was emanating, and he was not afraid to show it. 

“I’m just not used to training people who don’t know what they’re doing. And this isn’t exactly the kind of slow-paced environment that’s needed in order to teach someone something like making drinks.”

“I’m not exactly seeing how this is my fault. I didn’t choose to get this specific job. In all honesty I was expecting janitorial work, maybe the parking lot if I was lucky.” Dan had not torn his eyes away from Phil’s.

“Maybe we should just call it a day. We can try again tomorrow.” Phil gave a cold, half grin, and Dan could practically scoff.

“Great.” He said, before turning around and heading for the door.

*****

“I wish you could’ve fucking been there, I wanted to punch him right in the face.” Dan was angrily scrubbing the remnants of his dinner from his plate in the kitchen sink, ranting to his roommate, PJ, as he did so. “He has such an arrogant way of presenting himself, it’s almost unbearable.”

“Sounds like a right asshole. Is he the only person that can train you?” PJ only seemed to be half-listening, as he was typing away on his computer and sipping on an evening cup of coffee.

“As far as I know. The other girl, Louise, oh my god Peej she was so sweet, and we were getting on so well, all just for her to hand me off to him. When I say my stomach dropped to my feet-- I fucking mean it.”

“Why don’t you just request for someone else to train you? Say you two just don’t get along. It’s the happiest place on Earth, I feel like surely they have to accommodate for you.”

“It’s my first week. I don’t want to start any drama or seem like a bother. As much as I can’t stand him, its only for a couple weeks and then I’ll be completely independent.” Dan stared down at the soapy water with the realization of just how long a “couple weeks” could feel.

“Well, mate, the best advice I could give you at this point is to try and get to know the guy. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think.”

Dan scoffed, placing the wet dish on the drying rack. “Yeah, right.”

“I gotta get going, I’m working the closing shift tonight at Woody’s Lunch Box and if I don’t leave now, I might jump off the balcony.” PJ closes his laptop and places his half-empty mug in the sink, giving Dan a pleading look. Dan rolls his eyes and washes the mug.

“Hollywood Studios, huh? So, you get to ring up grilled cheese and apple juice 100 feet away from actual Star Wars land, while I get stuck wearing knee high socks and spilling grenadine down my uniform.”

“Hey, man, I didn’t choose the Lunch Box life, the Lunch Box life chose me. And besides,” PJ stood up and gestured to his navy dress pants and black loafers. “We aren’t exactly serving looks over in Toy Story Land.”

Dan smiled to himself, and PJ gives him a light punch on the shoulder before placing his coffee mug in the sink where Dan had just finished washing up. “Oh, boy, look at the time! Gotta dash! Oh, but my poor mug oh how tragic it’ll just be sitting there.”

PJ slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the front door. 

“I hate you!” Dan calls after him, picking up the mug and squeezing soap inside. 

“Very convincing! Enjoy your night, Dan. You’re free from the shackles of arrogant bartenders for the next 12 hours! Go crazy.” PJ waves before leaving the apartment, and Dan can hear him lock the door behind him.

After Dan has finished with the dishes, he heads to his room to get ready for bed. There wasn’t much time to “go crazy” when he had a shift in the morning and had barely slept the night before. Sure, the evening was young, but he was already in an irritated state, and if he is to be expected to put up with yet another agonizing day with the world’s worst trainer, then he thought it smart to at least be properly rested.

Of course, going to bed early turned into a two-hour Reddit deep dive as he read about people’s thoughts on liminal spaces, which in turn made him anxious. So, instead of getting a full eight hours of sleep, he was sat watching the red glowing number on the minute side of his clock count up to 59, and then back to zero, and then back up to 59, until it was 3 in the morning and his shift was in 6 hours. 

Finally, around 4:30 in the morning, he drifts away into a sort of half-sleep half-conscious state. He dreams of Moscow Mules and Dark and Stormy’s spilling over the red-wooded edges of the bar, their glasses shattering on the ground, customers yelling at him to hurry up. He dreams there’s no rags to clean up the mess, and that Phil is there, and he’s furious.

“How incompetent could you possibly be? Seriously, do you have any common sense?” Phil is towering over him growing taller by the second, whereas Dan feels as though he is slowly shrinking.

“I’m trying my hardest! I just-“ Dan is interrupted by the roar of customers shouting at him.

“Get him off the floor!”

“Where the fuck is my drink!”

“Who the fuck let this kid behind a bar!”

Phil squints down at Dan, face full of rage. “You don’t belong here.”

Dan starts to cry, he doesn’t know what to do, he feels so small, helpless. Pathetic.

When he wakes up he’s sweating, and the sun is peaking in through the blinds in his bedroom.

“Fuck my life.” He whispers to himself as he throws the blankets off his legs.

His hair is a complete mess, and his eyes are swollen and puffy. He decides a shower and a giant cup of coffee will do him some good. 

Unfortunately, because the universe has a habit of making life for Dan almost completely unbearable, he’s late on his second day. 

When he finally stumbles into the pub, 7 minutes have passed since his shift has begun, and the first face he sees is Phil. 

The pub was set to open in one hour, and it was up to them to make sure that everything was prepped and ready for guests. And already, Phil seemed to be completely through with cooperating with him. 

“You’re late.” Is all he said, not even turning to look at Dan.

“I know, I’m really sorry, there was so much traffic on the interstate and—” 

“It’s 8 in the morning.” Phil states.

“Yeah, I know. What about it?”

“Obviously there’s traffic at 8 in the morning. You should’ve thought about everyone else going to work at this time. You’re lucky it’s me and not our advisor. You would’ve been in a hell of a lot more trouble.” Phil starts hand drying cups and Dan feels anger rising in his chest.

“My fucking hero,” Dan mutters, quiet enough for only him to hear. 

“You can start by cutting up lemons and limes. They’re in the fridge below the rum.” Phil orders.

“Sir yes sir.” Dan says, this time just loud enough for Phil to hear the snarky remark. 

They work in agonizingly painful silence, Dan slicing various fruits for garnishes, Phil preparing glasses and wiping down the entire work area.

Fifteen minutes before opening, more people begin to show up, including Louise. 

“Daaaan!” She howls as she skips to the bar in her perfectly pressed uniform. “Good morning, handsome. How’re you?”

“Oh, I’m splendid.”

“Uh, oh. What’s wrong? Is it the beast?” Louise gives him a sweet, glossy-lipped smile.

“I’m starting to think I might need protective gear when working with him, so as not to lose any of my precious limbs.” Dan gives half a smile in return.

“I think that would be for the best. If it makes you feel any better, he really does warm up. I like to think of Phil has an Oreo; rough on the exterior, but everyone’s favorite part is what’s inside. He’s sweet, I promise.” 

“I take your word because I like you, but I fear he might just be playing favorites.” Dan rolls his eyes.

Louise gasps loudly. “You like me! Well my day is made, Daniel. I hope yours can be too.” She pinches his cheek before strutting away behind the bar.

Phil appears then, as though summoned by the conversation, and slams a giant binder down on the bar top. “Alright,” he begins. “Now, the real fun starts.”

“Is that so?” Dan looks wearily at the binder.

“Drink recipe’s, code of conduct, rules, regulations, everything you need to know is in this binder. You will take it home, you will read it, you will learn it.”

Dan wants to insist that if Phil really wanted him to listen and respect him, that he might have better luck if he asked Dan to do tasks, as opposed to demanding them, but he doesn’t. He reaches out to open the binder, but Phil stops him.

“I said you will take it home. All we’re doing today,” Phil opens the binder and takes out the first page. “Is learning the basics.”

Dan gives a small huff, watching as Phil places the binder below the bar, and hands Dan the sheet of paper. 

“Pick one, and we will start there.”

Dan drags his eyes across the paper, stopping half way down. “A black velvet?”

“Great. Follow me.”

Dan follows like a lost puppy as Phil walks over to one of the fridges beneath the bar, pulling out a bottle of white sparkling wine. “Wine.” He says. 

They then make their way to where all the beer on tap was. 

“Beer,” he says, gesturing to the lever labelled “Guinness”. 

“First, your bubbly.” Phil grabs a tall glass, filling it up partially with the wine. “Then, the beer.” He then fills the glass the rest of the way with the dark brown liquid. “Black velvet.”

“That’s it?” Dan takes the glass. 

“That’s it.”

“Can I try it?”

“Are you 21?” Phil raises an eyebrow. 

“I mean, no, but—”

“Then what a stupid question.” Phil takes the drink back.

“Oh, please. Everyone in the UK gets sloshed starting at age 14, not to mention the legal age there is 18, which I am—”

“Okay and you’re acting as if that applies here. You’re underage in the States, and not only that, you’re in Disney for fucks sake. The answer is no.” Phil wastes the perfectly good alcohol down the sink as Dan watches. 

“You must be so fun at parties.” Dan grumbles.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Louise? Hey, Lou!” Phil calls across the bar to Louise, who was moving maraschino cherries from their jar to a glass bowl using a small pair of tongs. 

“What’s up?” She calls over.

“How absolutely unforgettably fun am I at parties?” Phil seems to already be proud of the answer that’s to come, which makes Dan want to smack his teeth and walk away entirely. 

“Oh my gosh, Dan you have to come to Phil’s party!”

Phil stops dead, then, obviously not the answer he was expecting. 

“What party?” Dan asks, side eyeing Phil and smiling mischievously.

Louise beats Phil to the punch. “It’s on Friday! Oh, Dan you’ll have so much fun Phil throws such great parties. Phil, what time does it start again?” 

Phil is looking at Louise like he wishes he could take every word she just spilled and funnel it right back into her mouth but forces a painfully fake smile instead. “Eight.” He says through gritted teeth. 

“Perfect! I’ll be there. Dan, if you want, we can carpool.” Louise smiles brightly.

“That would be perfect. Thanks, Louise.” Dan smiles too, but his eyes are dead set on Phil, who looks like he might lunge for Dan’s throat at any moment. 

“Okay, boys as much fun as this has been, we open in 2 minutes and I have real work to do.” She departs by giving them both a small pat on the back. 

Dan smiles at Phil, who has his arms crossed over his chest. “Must be some party-thrower, huh? Can’t wait to go.”

“Can’t wait to have you.” Phil spats, and just stares. Dan does not drop his smile until Phil puts the dirty black velvet glass in the sink and turns away.

For the rest of his shift, Dan feels giddy with victory.


	3. Chapter 3

On Thursday Dan learns specific drinks from the menu. The Leaping Leprechaun is his favorite to look at, and the Magical Star Cocktail is his favorite to smell. He wants so badly to try them, but with Phil watching him like a hawk all shift every shift, it’s pretty much impossible to get the sweet-looking cocktails anywhere near his mouth. He puts the recipe’s in a filing cabinet in the back of his mind and makes a mental note to ask PJ to buy him the ingredients at a later date. 

During his lunch break that day, Louise finds him with a sandwich and offers up a water.

“You can’t work eight hours without hydration.” She says.

“Thanks,” he responds, taking the bottle. “How’s your day been?”

“Eh,” she starts. “To be honest, I’m really just waiting for it to be tomorrow.”

“Why? You got a date?” Dan teases.

“What? No, silly, the party.”

Dan’s heart sinks. He hadn’t thought much about the party, but when he does, he gets this feeling. It’s like the feeling when you go down a drop on a rollercoaster, or how you feel when it’s the night before your first day of school. It’s an anxious, weird feeling, and he can’t pinpoint where it starts and where it ends, or where it came from in the first place.

“Right. Forgot about that.”

“What’s wrong?” Louise was impossible to hide feelings from it seems. 

“Nothing I just,” Dan thinks for a moment. “I’m like, well, I’m nervous I guess.”

“Nervous? What, have you never been to a party before?”

“No, of course I have. I just,” Dan stops short.

“It’s Phil, isn’t it?”

Dan rolls his eyes and smiles. “How’d you guess?”

“Listen, Dan,” Louise places a well-manicured hand on his knee. “If it makes you feel even the slightest bit better, I’ll be there, and I’m not bringing a date. I will be by your side the entire night if you need me to be, which I find highly unlikely considering how well you get along with other people.” She smiles.

“How well I—have you seen me and Phil? I would hardly call that getting along well.”

“Phil is a different, more difficult case. But you and I get along just fine, and besides, it’s a few of us from the pub but mostly it’s people from school, so they’re all around your age. I’m not worried about you at all.”

“And what about Phil? He already doesn’t want me there, you know. When you invited me, he looked like he wanted to strangle me.”

“You don’t think I know that? Phil needs to learn to play nice. And whether he wants to admit it or not, I can tell he likes you. He lets his own frustrations get in the way of getting close to others. He doesn’t like to own up and admit when he’s wrong about someone, let alone admit to actually being fond of someone.” Louise sighs. “Between you and me, Phil hasn’t had the best of luck with people, especially since starting work here.”

“What do you mean?” Dan asks.

“Right when he got the job, he and this guy, Ross, they hit it off really well. They ended up dating for like, damn it must’ve been like 2 years.” Dan listens closely, the news of Phil’s sexuality making his ears perk up like a dog’s.

“When they broke up it was nasty. Ross had been cheating on him with half the pub, not to mention some of those people were Phil’s friends. Anyway, Phil found out through someone at work, and followed Ross out one night to a club where he caught him kissing some regular. After that, Ross quit, Phil stayed, and so did the people Ross slept with, like…” Louise looks around. “Him.” She says, pointing at a man Dan thinks is named Garrett. “And him.” She points to someone else who Dan doesn’t know at all. “And a couple others.”

“Shit,” is all Dan can muster.

“Yeah, shit. And Phil really hasn’t been the same since. He’s cold, and he doesn’t let anyone anywhere near him, especially not a side of him that’s soft or welcoming. He really loved Ross, I think. The only time I see Phil somewhat relaxed is when he’s at school, or when we’re just hanging out at his apartment playing video games. Whenever he’s here it’s like he’s as on-edge as he can be without falling off.”

“If he’s so aggravated at work, why doesn’t he just quit? He’s making everyone else’s time a living hell.”

“He loves this job. He loves mixology, he loves the company. He’s been here since he was 19. I think he’d rather be distant and friendless here than not here at all.”

“He’s not friendless, though. He has you.”

“And you.” Louise gives a small smile. 

“He could have me, if he wasn’t so damn arrogant and rude. Not to mention he won’t let me have a normal conversation with him, let alone get to know him. It’s all work and rules and regulations and then we clock out for the day.”

Louise sighs and looks down, then back up at Dan and places her hand on his shoulder. “Just keep trying.”

“Yeah, will do. Maybe if I slip him an extra drink tomorrow, he’ll drop the fucking façade for two seconds so I can at least figure out his favorite color or something.”

“That’s the spirit.” Louise gets up. “It’s green, by the way.” She walks back into the pub, leaving Dan to finish his sandwich with his newfound thoughts. 

When Dan is about to clock out that day, he waits for Phil to finish up washing glasses before pulling out his timecard.

“Hey,” Dan says to Phil as soon as he makes his way over. “Um,” he sputters, trying to find the right words while Phil stares at him likes he’s an alien. “Fuck.”

“Great conversation.” Phil reaches across Dan to punch in his card, clocking out. “Would love to have another some time.” Phil begins to walk away, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Would you just—” Dan whips around and grabs Phil by the elbow, stopping him. “I’m trying to say thank you.” 

Phil turns around to look at Dan before pulling his arm back to his side. “Thank you?”

“Yes, thank you. You know for showing me all the ropes and stuff. I know it’s just my first week and I’m still a complete mess, but, yeah. Thank you.”

“You’re right. You’re a complete mess.” Phil stares at Dan, who represses the urge to lash out and push him. He tries to remind himself of what Louise was saying. Maybe this kind of thing, praise, makes Phil feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was true, he’d rather be friendless and distant. “But either way, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”

“Well, you’re good at it.” Dan cringes at how hard he probably seems to be trying, but offers him a small smile anyway, attempting to bring this back to the whole point of the conversation in the first place; to try and make amends. 

Phil looks at Dan for a second longer, lips slightly parted with a look of what Dan could really describe as confusion on his face. It only lasts for a moment, before Phil closes his mouth and his face falls back into its usual annoyed demeanor. “See you tomorrow, kid.” Phil begins to walk away, and the word ‘kid’ seeps into Dan’s skin like tattoo ink, pushing his temper a bit over the edge. Not only that, the bastard didn’t even say thank you.

“I don’t work tomorrow, you absolute twat.” Dan whispers that last part under his breath, a secret insult between him and himself.

“The party, you idiot.” Phil calls back before rounding the corner and disappearing altogether. 

Dan huffs to himself, shoving his name tag and phone into his bag before clocking out himself. “Yeah, Louise, keep trying, what a great idea. Soft side my ass, this guy wouldn’t know soft if a fluffy fucking rabbit sat on top of his giant, arrogant, egotistical head.” Dan mutters angrily as he makes his way to the bus that goes straight to the parking lot, not making eye contact as he passes the seat that Phil has claimed, opting to go for one in the back with a window view. 

If Dan was going to try and be friends with the human embodiment of snobbery that was Phil Lester, he was going to have to seriously mentally prepare himself. 

Dan spends the majority of the day Friday frantically pacing around his apartment.

“Dude, seriously, take a seat, eat some toast, you’re working yourself up.”

“Peej, if I have to run through one more scenario in my head of this stupid fucking party I might literally—I might—” Dan throws himself down on the couch. “I might just not go.”

“What? No. Absolutely not. Nope, not happening. Dan,” PJ sits up from where he’s lying on the couch and scoots over to Dan. “If you don’t go, then he wins. He gets exactly what he wants.”

“Maybe I should just let him get what he wants then. For fuck’s sake it’d save both of us a hell of a lot of feuding.” Dan feels completely defeated. He’s not even sure why he’s allowing himself to get so anxious and upset about some random party. He just can’t shake the feeling that Phil truly doesn’t want him there, and that Louise was wrong in assuming that Phil was in any way fond of him. He didn’t want to be a burden on someone else’s fun, and he definitely didn’t want to start any more drama than they already had.

“Whether you go or not will not affect the tension between you two. If anything, he’ll just bug you more for not going. Look, people like him can’t always get what they want because then they never learn to be a better person. Go to this party, solely because you know he doesn’t want you there. Don’t let him get away with being an asshole every day to you without consequence. Plus, you haven’t been to a party since, like, graduation. You deserve a night to get completely shit faced.”

“Yeah, getting shit faced in front of Phil sounds like a great idea. What could possibly go wrong?” Dan says and PJ rolls his eyes in defeat. 

“Look, no one is making you go, that’s all on you. But, if you want my advice,” PJ gets up from the couch. “I’d be there, and I’d wear my best shirt, too.”

“Oh, you mean you wouldn’t wear your fresh-pressed Toy Story land pants?” Dan smiles.

“Alright, this is where I check out of this conversation.” PJ walks toward his bedroom, stopping in the doorway and turning back one last time to Dan. “Have fun tonight, Howell. Don’t let some twat get in the way of your good time. Drink his alcohol, break his grandmother’s urn, shit in between his couch cushions, I don’t care what you have to do.”

“Great advice, Peej, thank you.” Dan nods him off and PJ disappears behind his bedroom door.

Dan sits on the couch for a second longer before getting up and heading into his own room.  
If he was going to show up to Phil’s party out of spite, he should at least be fashionably late. When he checks the clock, he sees that the party if supposed to start in an hour. Dan would have ample of time to completely each step of his getting ready routine. He flicks through button down shirts in his closet, settling on an older one with moths on it that he knew deep down needed to be donated after all these years. PJ’s advice about wearing his best shirt would have to be saved for another time; Dan had had too many drunken experiences to be as naïve as to wear something actually nice, considering most nights he drank he had trouble keeping his lunch down by the end of it. 

Not to mention that he was anxious enough as it was, walking into a party where he hardly knew anyone and that was being hosted by his arch nemesis. Dan decides to hop in the shower and spends a good 20 minutes debating with childhood cartoon villain Phil would most likely be. He leaves his conditioner in extra-long, and even spend a few minutes towards the end just letting the hot water hit the back of his head, embracing the warmth like a much-needed hug. 

When he’s done, he dries off, slips on the button down and a pair of black jeans. His socks are plain black, like they usually are, and his cologne is the same as always. He needed everything to be in order tonight. Nothing could be skewed, or altered, as to not set him off into a panicked frenzy. He wanted to have fun. He had already convinced himself that he was going, he may as well not make himself miserable. After lacing up his shoes, he steps out of his room to fix a quick bite to eat before heading out. It was 10 till 8, and, according to maps on his phone, the address for the party that Louise gave him was 20 minutes away by car. 

He gets out bread, peanut butter and jam just as PJ walks back out of his room.

“This is what I was talking about! Don’t you look spiffy.” PJ says, Mario pajama pants on and Nintendo Switch in hand. Dan suddenly feels a small pang of jealousy at the thought of PJ’s night in playing video games. No, he thought, I’ve made up my mind.

“I wear this shirt all the time.” Dan retorts.

“It’s the effort that counts. I was scared you’d throw on a hoodie and call it a night. And you washed your hair! Baby steps.” PJ plopped down on their little gray sofa and powered up his switch.

“Alright, this conversation as expired. You know, you could come if you wanted to.”

“Me? Come to Dr. Doom’s party? And hang out with who?”

“Well, me, obviously.” Dan finishes up spreading the jam and puts the two pieces of bread together. 

“Dan, buddy, I mean this with all the respect in the world. But, when you drink, you’re basically a walking mouth, you’ll kiss anyone with a tongue, you—”

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m a horny little shit who can’t drink without making out. But you’re not thinking about all the cute Disney girls that’ll be there for you to hang out with, if, and only if, I find myself someone to snog.”

“Which you will,” PJ points out. 

“If I do, it’ll be a bloody fucking miracle considering the amount of raw anxiety coursing through my veins this very moment.”

“Alright, I give. Lend me 15 minutes and we can bounce, okay?”

“You, my friend, are the best roommate ever.”

“Ah yes,” PJ starts. “Downgraded from best friend to roommate, I feel the love.”

“Roommate, best friend, super-hero, miracle worker, please just go get dressed before I change my mind and order Domino’s.” Dan shoves the last bite of his PB&J into his mouth and PJ disappears into his room to get ready. 

When Dan pulls into the neighborhood of the address Louise gave him, PJ in his passenger seat, he feels as though this is the worst mistake of his life. He’s bouncing his leg as he parallel parks on the street, a two-story townhouse to their right, which he can only assume is Phil’s. Dan thinks he might throw up.

“Whoa, okay. Let’s all just take a moment.” PJ says. “Does he really have you nervous enough to bounce?” He puts his hand on Dan’s knee, and Dan stills.

“PJ I really don’t think this was a good idea.”

“Why’s that?” PJ looks concerned.

“I can’t really give a single reason, it’s just an overall feeling. I know he doesn’t want me here, so I guess I’m just feeling intrusive. Like when someone comes in your room without knocking.”

“That girl Louise, didn’t she say that Phil wanted you to be here? That he actually thinks you’re okay, behind his façade?” PJ inquires.

“Who knows if that was true, dude. She could have said killing puppies is morally right and I would believe her, she’s so damn nice. I think she just wants me to feel included, so she took it upon herself to invite me, and she knew Phil wouldn’t get angry with her because they’re friends.”

“You’ve taken a lot of time to think about this theory, I see.”

“It’s the anxiety.”

“Yes, that’s apparent.” PJ sighs. “Okay, Dan. We can do whatever you want, okay? If you want to go home, that’s fine with me. What do you want to do?”

Dan takes a second. On one hand, a party with free drinks and music and Louise and PJ sounds nice, and on the other hand, being shit faced around the one person who makes him feel most like garbage sounds like a recipe for disaster. But PJ was also right in what he said earlier; assholes like Phil don’t get to have what they want all the time. If Dan truly wasn’t wanted here, the least he could do for all the times in the last few days that Phil upset him was give him a taste of his own medicine. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s do this.” Dan whispers. 

PJ smiles. “That’s the spirit, champ. Let’s get wasted, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his car door. “Let’s get wasted.”

Dan knocks with a frigid fist on the front door of Phil’s place. It’s freezing outside, and as Dan and PJ wait for an answer, he instantly regrets his choice of shirt. The front door swings open, yellow light pouring onto the front porch, and Phil stands in the doorway with pink cheeks and a slightly messy mop of hair. Dan swallows hard. For a moment, if you were to peek into Dan’s mind with a magnifying glass, you might be able to find a thought swim past; breathtaking. 

He buried the thought 6 feet deep.

“Welcome, Howell. And, Howell’s friend.” Phil stood, unblinking. Behind him Dan could see at least 15 if not 20 people packed into the house which, really, wasn’t that big.

“PJ, hello, nice to meet you.” PJ held his hand out to Phil, who stared at it for a moment.

“You shake, that’s interesting.”

“Call me old-fashioned,” PJ smiles and shrugs and Dan watches as Phil takes his hand and shakes.

Phil holds his hand out to Dan as well, which catches him off guard. 

“Uh,” Dan stutters, and Phil waits, hand still outstretched. “We’ve met, Phil.”

“I’m completely aware, Daniel.”

“Just Dan,” Dan says as he shakes Phil’s hand. Is this what a tipsy Phil Lester consisted of?

“Come in, both of you.” Phil motions them inside, stepping out of the doorway and into the house. “If you don’t mind taking your shoes off, please.”

“One of those,” Dan muttered, but Phil caught it. 

“Those who like things to look nice, Dan, yes. If that’s what you were referring to.” Phil turned and walked away without another word, and PJ nudged Dan with his elbow. 

“What?” Dan spats, yanking his shoe off his foot.

“You’re not exactly doing yourself any favors here, Dan. He hasn’t given off major dickhead vibes yet.”

“Just wait,” Dan rolls his eyes and places both shoes next to each other by the door.

“Dan!” He hears Louise’s shrill voice coming from behind him, and both he and PJ spin around to greet her. “And you brought a friend, oh, you both look so handsome.”

Louise wraps Dan up in a tight hug, and he’ll admit that it feels extremely comforting. She then goes in for a hug with PJ, who gladly welcomes it. Louise and PJ get to talking about themselves and Dan catches sight of the display of alcohol bottles on the kitchen table. He scans the different types until he lands on something that’ll get the job done quickly. He flicks the cap off a bottle of Malibu and pours himself half a red solo cups worth. He feels a looming presence behind him.

“You work at a bar for Christ’s sake, could you at least make something tasteful?” Phil sets his empty cup on the table next to Dan’s.

“What happened to having to be 21?” Dan took a gulp of his Malibu, the liquid leaving a warm burning trail down his throat as it made its way into his stomach.

Phil just nods. “Suit yourself.” He begins walking away, and everything in Dan screams to bring him back, to say something, anything. 

“Wait,” Dan calls, and Phil turns around like it takes all the patience in the world. Dan ticks with annoyance. “What would you make me?”

“What?” 

“If I asked you to make me a drink, what would you make me?” He was being more ballsy than usual, especially for talking to Phil.

Phil’s expression doesn’t falter though, he looks just as bored as usual. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka is always a safe option, I’d say. Assuming you have the ingredients around here to make decent cocktails?” 

“Who do you think I am?” Phil asks, walking over to his fridge where Dan sees there’s even more bottles of various alcohols and mixers. “Take a seat, Howell, I’ll be with you shortly.” Phil shoos him away and Dan bids him a farewell with a roll of the eyes.

He walks through the house that Phil comes home to everyday. There are shelves of figurines ranging from Pokemon to Mario to Final Fantasy. He catches sight of multiple gaming consoles on the entertainment center, and rows upon rows of games and books. If Phil wasn’t such a giant twat Dan might say he’s pretty cool, at least in terms of taste. He comes to a hallway, where he sees 4 doors, two on each side. The first door has a white board hanging from it with the word “Mike” scrawled across it in Expo marker. Okay, so there’s a roommate around here somewhere. The door next to Mike’s room didn’t have anything hanging from it. Dan took a quick look back to the living room, where people were too busy talking and swaying to music to notice the mousy-haired kid snooping around somebody else’s home. He creaked the door open slowly, seeing a porcelain toilet and plaid patterned shower curtain. Well, at least he knew where the bathroom was. The door across from the bathroom just had a single Squirtle sticker stuck to it. Dan smiled to himself. After checking the living room again, he cracked the door to his room as well. A big, black desk sat against a wall; two monitors placed side by side sat on top of it. There was a rather large gaming chair there as well, and portraits of video games hanging on the walls. Undertale, Legend of Zelda, Final Fantasy. A gaming room, Dan thought. These guys were serious. It was actually a pretty cool room, easy to hang out in. There was a couch pushed against the wall furthest from the desk with a plethora of plushies and pillows strewn across it. Dan closed the door.

The last room must be Phil’s, Dan already knew that. He threw one last quick glance to the living room before opening Phil’s bedroom door. His heart was beating out of his chest, whether out of fear of being caught or because he truly did not know what to expect. Dan guesses when he imagined Phil’s room he thought of some dank, cold dungeon somewhere with coffins and the smell of chlorine. But here sat a bed, soft green bedspread and a cactus shaped pillow. There was a furry white rug, different paintings on the wall. Handfuls of houseplants in varying sizes scattered all over the room, some even big enough to sit on the floor. It smelled like toasted vanilla, like marshmallows over an open fire, the middle of summer, 4th of July. There was a glasses case on the bedside table, an essential oil diffuser, there were fairy lights strung up and down the walls. So, not a vampire, Dan thought. If Dan didn’t know any better, he’d say that from just looking at his room, Phil didn’t seem all that bad. Dan mentally chuckles at the thought.

Someone grabs his shoulder then, turning him around. Phil stands there, head cocked to the side like a dog, a curious look on his face. “Looking for something?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Shit, fuck—” Dan whips around fast, seeing Phil standing in his bedroom doorway, two fruity-looking drinks in hand. “Phil—”

“I see you don’t know how to mind your own damn business.” Phil hands Dan one of the glasses and he takes it slowly. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I was snooping I guess I was just waiting, and I got bored, so—”

“I don’t really think any excuse you could conjure up in this moment would excuse you literally welcoming yourself into my room, a person you hardly know, in a house you’ve been in once—”

“You’re so right, and I’m so sorry—”

“But,” Phil interrupts him one last time. “I’m pretty tipsy right now, so if you don’t mind, Daniel, let’s just move from this conversation to a new one and I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

“I… okay.” Dan mutters, wrapping both his hands around the cold glass. Phil steps to the side and gestures for Dan to exit the room, which he does with relief. When Phil closes the door behind them, he turns again to look at Dan. 

“I can’t imagine you raised you.” Phil looks inquisitive.

“Don’t try to, they’re far worse than you can theorize.” Dan takes a swig from his cocktail, trying to move on from the horrifyingly embarrassing incident he’s found himself in this evening. “This is nice, what is it?”

“Sex on the beach.” Phil replies, taking a drink of his own. Dan snorts, and the look Phil hits him with is that of an adult curiously staring at a child. Dan can’t help he’s immature.

“Sorry. It’s interesting,” Dan starts.

“The drink? Or sex on the beach?” Phil inquires.

“Oh, uh, both I guess.” Dan’s cheeks flush. Immature.

Phil smirks. “Alright then,” He begins walking up the hallway back towards the living room. “Cocktails are fun and all, but I’m not looking for a fuzzy evening of fun. If we’re drinking tonight, I’m drinking to forget, and shots are the only thing that’s gonna help me with that dilemma.” Phil takes down the rest of his drink in a few big gulps, and Dan cringes at the impending heart burn. “What about you?”

“You know, this seemed fun in my head, but you’re actually a pretty scary drunk.”

“You thought this was going to be fun?” Phil asks. 

“Well, not exactly, but PJ was pretty convincing.” Dan answers. 

“Right, I’m sure. Well, if I’m so scary then I guess you won’t be joining us for shots? I made a pretty spooooky game to get us all pretty plastered.” He draws out the o’s in spooky and Dan rolls his eyes. 

“I didn’t quite say that,” Dan starts. “I’m interested to see if it’s possible for you to get even worse than you are at work, if I’m honest.”

“It’s gets worse, you’ll be pleased to know. Also, I’m not that drunk.”

“Yet, I suppose. Alright, come on then.” Dan emerges into the living room and follows behind Phil as he makes his way in front of the TV, so all attention can be on him. 

Dan sits on the floor next to the coffee table, PJ and Louise behind him on the couch. Dan counts while he’s sitting, 17 people in total, not including him. He recognizes some of them from work, maybe 5 or 6, but the rest are people he’s never seen before in his life.

“Ladies, gentlemen, children,” He directs his gaze toward Dan on that last one. Dan feels the heat of irritation rise once again. “We all know I’m an expert party-games planner, so you’ll be enthused to hear that I will not be failing you tonight.” 

Phil reaches behind him and sitting on the entertainment center is a giant ceramic bowl.

“Fate will decide our night, everyone.”

Phil passes the bowl to one of the boys sitting on the couch first. “Honesty is key, people. When you pull a card and it pertains to you in a specific way, you drink, or take a shot, or whatever else the card may say, and trust me there’s a few odd balls in there. Plus, what fun is a game if you cheat, anyways?” He looks at Dan again. “Let’s begin.”

The boy holding the bowl looks overly enthusiastic as Phil wanders over to grab an arm-full of alcohol from the table, moving them to the coffee table instead. “Everybody has a drink, correct?”

Dan hold his up in conformation, and the others either do the same or verbally slur some words. Dan smiles to himself. This could be fun, if he let it be. He wanted to play for real, he didn’t want to back down, even if he’s singled out or alone in drinking. 

The boy with the bowl pulls the first card. Dan takes a deep breath. Let the games begin.

“Leo’s, Aries and Sagittarius’, take a shot you fiery motherfuckers.” The boy laughs before grabbing a bottle from the coffee table and taking a huge swig. Dan stays still, and so does Phil and Louise. PJ takes a shot, and so do a couple other people in the room.

The bowl is then passed to PJ, who reads off “Four eyed creatures, your time has come. Take a drink!” 

Dan is still again, but he watches as PJ and Phil both take drinks of their cocktails. The bowl is passed to Louise.

“Underaged bastards, please stand up.” She reads. Dan stands, and about 5 other people do as well. “Chug, baby, chug.” 

“Finish your drinks, children, down the hatch.” Phil commands, and Dan follows suit. He tips his head back and lets the light pink liquid stream out of the glass, closing his eyes tight as if it’ll alleviate the taste. 

“Well done.” Phil praises. 

The bowl is passed to Dan. He feels the cocoon in his stomach twitch with anxiety. A butterfly was ripping its way out of potential eternal slumber, he feels it batter its wings against his organs. All eyes were on him, including Phil’s, and it felt humiliating, like having a dream where you show up to school naked. 

He pulls a piece of paper out of the bowl and unfolds it slowly. “All the hot singles, you’re under attack,” Dan reads. “Two shots, back to back.” He looks up and sees plenty of smiles. He picks up a bottle of Jack Daniels, knowing that he was about to do something only a fucking maniac would do. 

Dan downs a giant swig of whiskey, followed by an equal if not bigger one. He looks up to see Phil finishing off his second shot of Fireball. His chest is on fire and his throat burns like he’s swallowed lighter fluid. 

Dan passes the bowl to Phil. Phil eagerly begins digging, finally settling on a piece and opening it up. “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe, catch a virgin by the toe, stand up, take a shot, we might just let you go.” Phil smiles.

That butterfly nesting between Dan’s ribs almost busts through his mouth. He swallows it back down, hard. He sees two other people stand up, and that’s it. That’s 15 people left, staring at the three of them. Well, two of them, if Dan decides not to get the fuck up. Dan turns to PJ.

PJ winks at him, giving the tinies of motions with his hand for Dan to stand. He mouths, “Go.”

Dan huffs, but stands, the room swaying a little more than he anticipated it to.

“Knew it.” Phil breathes, and Dan immediately turns his attention to him.

“What’s that?” Dan asks, veins ablaze with alcohol and fire.

“I said take a shot, Howell.” Phil hands him a bottle of vodka this time, and Dan grabs it with force.

He thinks momentarily about something someone once said to him about mixes liquors, but he supposes it’s far too late for that now. 

Without taking his eyes off Phil, Dan unscrews the cap of the vodka, brings the bottle to his lips and drinks. And drinks. And drinks. Until he swears the liquid will burn a hole in his throat, and even then, it takes everything within him to keep a straight face from the sting. 

“Maybe a virgin, but certainly no newby to drunken habits. Do you feel better now?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dan topples back to the floor, catching himself on the way down with the coffee table so he can still sit up.

“Impressive, dude. You doin’ okay?” PJ leans over to talk to Dan.

“Dan, you have to teach me how to take shots I’m so awful at holding my alcohol and I work in a bloody bar for Christ’s sake.” Louise is sipping on a wine cooler, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and her hair a bit haywire. 

“Who’s turn is it?” Dan asks instead. He catches Phil’s eye, and gives none of the remorse he felt earlier for intruding on a personal space. He’d do it again. He’d throw his books around he’d rip the posters off his wall. Phil didn’t deserve his apologies and he didn’t deserve the guilt that Dan had felt when getting caught. Dan was so angry in this moment he thought he might get up and shove Phil backwards against the TV. That is, if he wasn’t so wasted.

A girl gets hold of the bowl and calls out, “Calling all guys, gals and non-binary pals. LGBT’s get up for body shots!” She sets the bowl down, getting up and running over to another girl and grabbing her arm.

Dan watches probably half the room find a partner, while the other half congregate over by the kitchen, watching. Dan stays where he is and can’t tell if he’s deciding to out himself here and now by silently picking a side, or if he really is too drunk to get up.

It wasn’t like PJ didn’t know, and it wasn’t really like the people at this party mattered. He knew Louise still loved and cared for Phil, and he was gay, and everyone else in the room could kiss Dan’s ass for all he cared. He sighed loudly while hoisting himself up, on all fours first and then to his feet. 

He sways over to the gay side of the room, catching glimpse of Phil and his new-found body shot partner, a bloke with wire-rimmed glasses and a mop of curly yellow-blonde hair. 

A guy, shorter than Dan but making up for it in the muscle department, links arms with him suddenly. “Need a partner?” He asks.

He had brown sugar eyes and a broad nose. He was handsome, albeit in an unconventional sort of way. Dan wasn’t going to complain, at least it was a boy.

“Looks that way, yeah.” Dan responds and the boy laughs. 

“I’m Ian,” He says. 

“Dan,” Dan can feel himself giving a derpy smile and he can also feel a set of eyes on him that aren’t Ian’s.

Dan scans the room for the person whose gaze is burning holes into the back of his head and lands behind him to the left, where Phil is sat on the couch with his partner. He was giving Dan a blank look, one that was impossible to read. Dan gave a sloppy wave and Phil looked away.

“Alright! Decide amongst yourselves who is the drinker and who is the body. Then, bodies lay on the floor, drinkers grab an alcohol of your choosing.” Phil finishes and grabs a shot glass for himself, already deciding he was going to be the one drinking. 

Dan turned to Ian. “Well?”

“Was kind of looking forward to seeing such a lovely face without a shirt on.” Ian smiles and Dan can see his slightly crooked teeth.

He wasn’t the most attractive guy in the room, but he was looking dapper under the yellow lighting of Phil’s living room, and with the liter of alcohol sitting in Dan’s stomach.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Dan reaches for the neck of his shirt. “I’ll warn you know, it’s not much to gawk at.” He feels a little funny, taking his shirt off in front of so many people, especially strangers, but the alcohol is definitely calming his nerves, pushing his insecure thoughts of his soft stomach and curved edges to the back of his mind. 

“And yet, I’m gawking.” Ian fans himself with his hand and Dan can’t help but laugh. 

Everyone without a shirt adopts a spot on the floor and lays down, people with a bottle following them. Dan lays beside the couch, carpet soft under the skin of his back. He stares up at the ceiling fan, getting dizzy from watching it spin. He giggles to himself.

He’s so engulfed in the spinning of the ceiling that he hardly notices the counting down before Ian pours a clear liquid near his navel, pooling in the dip where his bellybutton is. It’s cold, but feels nice, and it feels even nicer when a warm mouth is lapping it up. Dan thinks it feels so nice that he hopes it never stops.

But it does, and everyone is clapping and laughing, and Dan is laughing too because everything is so loud and bright and funny in this moment. He pushes himself up on his elbows so he can see everyone, but it’s hard for him to keep his head upright. 

When he finally balances his head on his shoulders he’s smiling like an idiot, his eyes floating from face to face. He can see PJ and Louise laughing and holding onto each other and he laughs at that too because he’s happy to see them getting along. He can see some people from work too, sipping drinks and swaying and some are even on the floor with their shirts off. He can see Phil, kissing the guy with the wire-rimmed glasses and curly blonde hair. Dan stops his eyes there though, and he’s not laughing this time. He can feel his breath heavy in his lungs, like the oxygen he’s breathing in is being weighed down with lead. It’s thick, and unobtainable, he can’t seem to get enough in. 

Phil is leaning down over the guy, one hand on the ground next to his head and the other cradling his face. The boy has taken off his glasses, and still doesn’t have his shirt on.

Dan lets his head and shoulders fall back to the floor, the impact making his eyes black out for a moment. 

“Whoa there, you good?” Ian is turning his face to look at him.

“Soooooo good,” Dan slurs. “feel good.”

“Seems like it,” Ian is laughing and so is Dan. He just can’t seem to stop laughing. 

Ian’s kiss isn’t something Dan was expecting, so he didn’t immediately retaliate. Ian pulled back after a couple seconds to look at him. 

“Sorry, did you not want to—”

Dan cuts him off with a hard kiss, sitting up with no problem this time. Ian grunts contently as they sit up, Dan crawling closer to sit between Ian’s legs. Dan feels Ian’s tongue slip into his mouth and takes the opportunity to use his too. It’s sloppy and wet and there’s a giggle growing in Dan’s throat, but it feels good, like laying on your back in a pool, or sitting in a warm sun-spot on the carpet. It feels like kissing a boy in a room full of strangers for the first time. 

“Alright, you two, get a room.” PJ crouches next to the boys and uses his arm to separate them.

“Fine, we will,” Dan breathes and attempts to stand up, but topples over. On the second try he’s able to do it, though, and reaches his hand down for Ian. “Come on, then.”

Phil has stopped with his make-out session, currently watching whatever was about to go down between Dan and Ian. 

“No, Dan, not tonight.” PJ says. Dan moves PJ’s hand off his shoulder and groans.

“Am adult, PJ. I can do whatever I want.”

“Alright, well you’re also drunk, Dan, and this kid knows that.” PJ looks at Ian. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah, Dan, why don’t I just give you my number, okay? We can pick up right where we left off at a different time.”

“No, noooo,” Dan moans and PJ sighs.

“Alright, buddy, come on.” PJ lets Dan fall against him, keeping him up right. “Dan, where’s your phone?”

“Don’t know,” Dan laughs. PJ is getting irritated, but Dan would never realize it in this state.

PJ pats down Dan’s pants and finds his phone in his back pocket. “Alright, big guy. Put in those digits so I can get this one home, please.” PJ hands the phone to Ian, who quickly punches in his number and hands the phone back.

“Waaait, Ian, no, I—” Dan tries to sit up to no avail, when someone interrupts him.

“What’s going on?” Phil asks, towering above the three boys.

“I think Dan’s just had a little too much to drink on this fine evening.”

“That’s quite apparent.” Phil mutters and Dan looks up at him with squinted eyes. 

“Too bright,” Dan mutters. “You’re such an asshole, too.”

Phil scoffs and nods. “You’re not hard to read Howell, tell me something I didn’t already know.”

“What’s your, what—” Dan uses PJ’s leg to hoist himself up, and then uses it again to balance himself once he’s standing. PJ rises rather quickly as well, standing behind Dan as a support beam. Dan doesn’t notice at all when Ian inches away from the conversation. “What’s the big deal, hmmm? What’s all the, what’s your problem, Phiiiil?” Dan lazily jabs his index finger into Phil’s chest, giving the slightest push. Phil doesn’t budge.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Dan.” Phil states, and Dan laughs.

“I’m not doing anything, Phil, I’m just having a good tiiiime with some good company—I,” Dan whips around left and right to see where Ian went, but he’s nowhere to be found. “Where’s—”

“Dan, he left. You’re a fucking mess right now. Get drunk, by all means but don’t be sloppy about it.”

“Slop-py,” Dan annunciates the word, looking at PJ. “Funny.”

“Dan, aren’t you tired? Let’s get you a burger and go back home.” PJ says.

“Whoa, whoa, wait. Where’s Louise?” Dan walks away from PJ and Phil in search of his petite blonde friend.

“Looooouise!” Dan calls out to the house, but for the most part people ignore him. “Lou!”

“Dan!” Louise calls from the hallway where the bedrooms were, her head peeking out of the room labeled “Mark”.

“Oh, my god, Louise! Hi!” Dan walks up to her, but she disappears further into the room, her head barely poking out now. “What doing?”

“Dear, I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment.” Louise says, out of breath and even a drunken Dan can piece it together, although not with good taste.

“Oooh my—you’re having sex!” Dan scream whispers and Louise widens her eyes. “With Mark? I don’t even know what Mark looks like, is he in there? Can I see him?”

“Dan, you’re my friend and I care about you loads, but you have to leave now, and I promise I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“Oh! Okay, okay I see. Bye Louise. Shh!” Dan puts a finger up to his lips and shushes her before closing the door. He giggles as he saunters back down the hallway into the living room.

Phil is on the couch, once again kissing the blonde boy, and Dan gets rush of irritability. 

“Ooooh myyyyy,” Dan drones on. “Give it a break, let’s get back to the game.” Dan walks over to the two boys, who barely seem to notice him. “Hello?” He says when he’s right next to them, practically kissing them himself. 

“What in the actual world do you need right now, Dan?” Phil pulls away to ask.

“Hi, yes, I am ready to drink more now.” Dan grabs hold of Phil’s shirt and tries to pull, but Phil doesn’t move. 

“We’re busy,” says the blonde boy.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” Dan asks.

“Jared, what’s it to you?”

“Of-course it is,” Dan laughs, moving backwards. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jared asks, getting up from the couch, Phil following suit. 

“Alrighty, so here’s where this ends.” Phil says. “Dan, you’re gonna go with your friend, and you’re going to leave.”

As if on cue, PJ shows up at Dan’s side. “Yes, we were just about to go.”

“No, we weren’t—”

“Dan!” Phil is yelling now, and Dan immediately ceases talking. “You’re going to leave now. I’ll see you at work.” 

Dan has nothing else to say. Most of the people in the room are staring at them now, and PJ is tugging ever so slightly on his shirt sleeve to get him to move. Dan nods slowly, looking down at his feet.

“’Kay.” Is all Dan can muster as PJ turns him around and walks him towards the door.

PJ helps him put on his shoes, and thanks Phil for the party, who says nothing in return.

Dan takes one last look at the apartment before leaving, and watches as Phil and Jared head towards the hallway of rooms, and Dan’s veins light on fire for the final time that night before he burns out completely. 

Dan doesn’t remember getting back to his own apartment, but he’s suddenly in his bed, moth shirt still on and room still spinning. PJ is setting a glass of water on his bedside table. 

“Try to drink this, okay? You’ll feel a lot better tomorrow if you do.”

“M’kay,” Dan whispers. “Sleepy.”

“Get rest, Dan. I’ll see you tomorrow.” PJ taps Dan’s head and disappears out of the room without another word.

Dan falls asleep with the taste of peach schnapps on his tongue.


End file.
